Fuck it its mmg, ima cross of def poetry and potent tree
I was born rough, i left scars on my mothers pussy
I have those scars in my wrist that nobody could see
Funny how money, chains and whips make me feel free
I diddy bop and make them titties pop
I get my cake; i love hip hop
I'm riding around with my gun on hip
Ya'll don't even know the name of my flip
They get mad when i lay up in the porsche box
Slicing my legs to leave behind scars
With scars apon my wrists and razors in my dreams
The more small people at your door like please can i receive
She said to love a bitch is to roll the dice
Scars arise, cuts on my thigs, surrounded by lies
You never gonna forgive me, but your so damn pretty
I got those scars in my wrist that no one could see.
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